Everyone Pays Their Toll in Sonnet’s Notorious No One Rides For Free

Review: No One Rides For Free – Judith Sonnet

My Verdict: This one almost did me in. Must have a sturdy constitution to ride this ride.

 

The new cover is so much more evil in how innocent it looks.

About a year ago, I decided I needed to get back into reading horror, especially stuff that wasn’t just more Stephen King. I was joining book groups and following anyone and everyone talking about horror books to get a sense of what was going on. Right before I went on my research binge, my algorithms had started feeding me plenty of videos to set me down the right path, especially for disturbing horror.

I say all this to say that somewhere along the way I had heard of No One Rides For Free. Not quite as often as others, so I didn’t remember the name as clearly. However, when I read the title again, those five words really dug in. No One Rides For Free. It was familiar, yet deeply threatening.

You know when you hear something and you feel like you just get it right away? Something clicks? That's how seeing the cover again was for me. I knew what that title meant. At least I thought I did. The words are bleak, unforgiving. Demanding. The cover with the man drawing blood from his own face (that is what it was, right?) only seemed to hammer this perceived message home.

I don’t remember when I finally decided to pick it up. I just know I felt intimidated to read the thing, based on the reputation. I had seen a list or two of ‘The Most Disturbing Books Ever,’ and Sonnet’s notorious work appeared on most of them. A lot of the lists had Dead Inside as the vilest book of them all. I had already read that, so I figured No One Rides For Free would be easy-peasy-lemon-squeasy since Morrison’s darkly comic story had only messed me up so much.

I was wrong. This book sits in a tie with Tory Favro’s Pinata as the most offensive thing I have ever read. At several points, I felt ill while I read. It got under my skin in ways some of the other books in this specific pantheon haven’t. The reason this story hit me so hard was the writing.

See, the first act of the story is great at introducing our characters and the stakes. Right off the bat we get Jodi, a single mother of two kids, Ralph and Poppy. She is taking her adult children back to college after they’ve spent the summer back home. We find the family stopped at a gas station on some dead desert highway.

Sonnet takes the necessary time to let us get to know Jodi for a second. How the love of her life has died in recent years. How she’s been exploring her sexuality since. How she has found herself to have quite the voracious appetite.

We learn that her children are very close, often working on creative projects together and obsessively reviewing movies. That they have decided to go to the same college in order to stay together. Ralph, the older brother, is very protective of his sister, Poppy. Jodi is deeply proud of her children, if not a little worried about their social development. Mostly she wants them back at college again so she can make up for missed encounters of the wet and wild variety.

Here we have all the ingredients you need. Sonnet made you care about these characters already. Now, just add the danger. Disgusting carjacker with a gun. He’s already in the car when Jodi returns with snacks.

The evil intruder, known simply as The Man, has lots of questions and demands. I won’t bother to ruin the rest of it for you. Just know that if you choose to read this, you are in for a truly bleak and uncomfortable ride, TO SAY THE LEAST.

Funny thing. For the first half of the story, I kept wondering why everyone said it was so scary. I knew I was probably acting like a guest on Hot Ones, where I was getting cocky before the party had truly started. I even considered making a boastful post. Something like, “So when does this actually get disturbing?” (like a dang edgelord) just to rage-bait some reactions. I knew better, though.

Maybe just over halfway through the story, you’ll find a trigger warning. Take it seriously. If you get scared, just get out while you still can, even though it might be antithetical to what I think the story is really about, maybe you’re special. Maybe, you can make it out unscathed.

Before I go, I have a couple more points. (Warning! Spoilers ahead. If it sounds good, just read the book. If you’ve already read it, read ahead.)

The original cover that made me afraid to read it.

I cared about the characters. Sonnet made me empathize with them. Which is why this book sits in a tie for first as the most disturbing thing I have read. The other disturbing books have been pretty messed up, don’t get me wrong. The difference being, those stories were about unlikable (even if empathetic) characters doing awful things (perhaps Woom is somewhat of an exception), whereas No One Rides For Free follows very relatable characters having unspeakable terrors forced upon them.

Which brings me to a quick side point. What is really going on here? Who is forcing this upon them? Though I don’t think Sonnet necessarily intended this, do we have a Haute Tension situation here?

No.

Right?

I mean, it's not like I subjected myself to this nightmare a second time looking for ways to either confirm or deny we had a situation with tension of the high variety. The problem is, I found evidence to suggest both situations. The haute evidence is mostly circumstantial, subtextual, and thematic, while the evidence to suggest the tension is not of the high variety often comes from the reality of the text itself. The Man literally says, “And before you ask…yes. This is really happening.” (Tori Amos says, “You bet your life it is.” I may have just been gardening.)

Sonnet can be relentless in some of these passages. Just shoving your face in the worst that humanity has to offer. Though this book contains things I find deeply offensive, I haven’t come to the conclusion the book has nothing to say. What does it mean? No one rides for free? Let me pontificate.

What is the ride? What is the price one pays to ride it? Life is the ride (duh, Matt). I think the price comes in two forms. One is obviously stated by the main character at the moment of (defeated, desperate) triumph when she finally ends The Man’s life while saying the titular line. One price we pay is death.

However, I think the story pretty plainly shows us no one rides without some trauma in their life. Evil, pain, and just plain bad luck are out there. Sometimes they can find you at your most vulnerable, when you least expect it. Waiting like a shadow. It doesn’t always take the shape of a disgusting man with a gun, but it will always be waiting. Very few among us have lived without some scars. Some scars go deep. Some scars change your life forever.

Sonnet has just done a re-release of this story (a sort of Criterion Collection Director’s Edition, if you will) with editing by Daniel Yeager, professional formatting by Savannah Fischer, and a new cover by Ruth Anna Evans. I think Ralston wrote a foreword too. Maybe I will use it as an excuse to subject myself to this gut-wrenching, awful story a third time.

I would also like to state: Not all of Sonnet’s work is alleged to be quite so hardcore. I have picked up The Home, which sounds really good, though I am constantly wrestling with my TBR as if it were a multi-tentacled beast from the deep, so I haven’t gotten to it yet.

Okay. Bye.